


Like a Girl on Her Wedding Night

by DuchessDeeDee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: But also plot, But fans am i right?, F/M, Fluff, Korean, Like in the background of one of Scott's interviews, Like why is this plot here, M/M, Now it has chapters, People start shipping Sterek because Derek cradles Stiles in his arms, Plot, Romance, Scott is a Sterek shipper, They're in a kpop group, This was supposed to be a short fluff piece, cause why not, enjoy, kpop, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 19:11:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17431883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuchessDeeDee/pseuds/DuchessDeeDee
Summary: And suddenly, they’re famous.Twitter explodes with comments and retweets of the clip, with fans having debates of ‘when Sterek started’. There’s Sterek compilation videos, edited clips of the duo, photoshop, the works. There’s fanfiction about them, and it’s trending.ORStiles had never planned to be in a kpop group.As strange as that sounded, what with the career he currently held, the idea hadn’t even been on his radar when he joined a study abroad program from his high school. He was American, freckled, American, clumsy by nature, pale as a sheet, American, and spoke barely passable Korean.And yet there he was.





	Like a Girl on Her Wedding Night

Stiles had never planned to be in a kpop group. 

As strange as that sounded, what with the career he currently held, the idea hadn’t even been on his radar when he joined a study abroad program from his high school. He was American, freckled, American, clumsy by nature, pale as a sheet, American, and spoke barely passable Korean. 

And yet there he was.

He didn’t even know what possessed him to join the program. School was going fine, his dad was finally taking the initiative and eating healthy, and his grades were good as could be.

It was just. Beacon Hills was so boring. Nothing ever happened, and him entering a scholarship exchange program to South Korea was the most excited thing to happen in years. Perhaps that was why he had sent in his truly monstrous, seven page long resume with five recommendation letters. He could never do things by half.

While school was fine, he didn’t really have any friends. There weren’t any extracurriculars he wanted to join, no after school pizza parties he could go to, just an empty house, eating kale sandwiches and watching Naruto reruns.

Seriously, screw Sakura, he shipped Sasuke and Naruto all the way. 

The next month was a blur of activity, the most energetic the town had ever been. Stiles got leave from school to frantically cram as much Korean into his brain as possible and pack for a semester abroad. Everyone from his dad’s deputies to Greenberg himself (which was weird in a creepy sort of way) came to wish him well, or in the later’s case, shove a box of cookies from his mom at Stiles. He signed up for a student visa, renewed his passport, bought plane tickets, and suddenly he was hugging his dad goodbye and walking onto a plane.

“Welcome aboard,” the flight attendant says cheerfully.

Stiles waves, beaming at her as he clutches the straps of his backpack a little too tight. The aisle is narrow and he does his best not to trip over sprawling legs and bags tipped over. Seat 34A is all the way in the back, empty save for Stiles.

Shrugging his backpack off, Stiles slides into the chair, shoving the bag underneath the seat in front of him. His fingers tap out a pattern on the armrest in synch with his feet, his head nodding along. Long flights are the absolute worst for people like Stiles - Aderall could only do so much.

He’s low key humming to himself when an unfamiliar voice says, “Stiles? Is that you?”

He glances up, mouth gaping open as he shoots to his feet. “Scott!” 

They hug it out, tumbling into the seat awkwardly when they realize they’re holding up the line.

“Dude, I thought you moved to Oregon!” Stiles says, helping Scott slide into 34B. “Man, I haven’t seen you since, like, second grade or something.”

“I drove down here for the flight, tickets are cheaper,” Scott laughs, holding out his hand.

Stiles grins and clasps it with his own. They run through their secret handshake with ease despite the years between them. 

At some point, the plane takes off. Stiles doesn’t even notice, too absorbed in telling Scott any and every obscure fact about penguins and quantum physics he’s managed to learn, laughing together as they attempt to converse in Korean and fail epically. 

When they’re about six hours in and day turns to night and their conversation is reduced to whispers, a thought occurs to Stiles in the middle of their heated SasuNaru v NaruSaku debate.

“Why are you going to Korea?” Stiles asks curiously.

Scott pauses, quickly swallowing the handful of Cheetos he is, apparently, still addicted to. “Mom says I have an Aunt in Seoul she wants me to meet. Supposedly, she moved there before I was even born. We’re, ah, having a bit of a financial situation, so mom thought it would be best if I stayed with her for a while while she figures out the job situation.”

“Oh,” Stiles says, patting his arm like he used to when they were younger. “Isn’t she worried about you missing school?”

Scott shrugs. “I’m homeschooled right now, so my mom didn’t see any problem with it. Besides, I’ll probably enroll in one of the high schools if it seems like I’m going to be there for over a month.”

There’s silence before Scott turns to Stiles. “Wait. Why are you here. I thought you were busy forcing that new diet on your dad?”

“He’s taken to it surprisingly well,” Stiles whispers back. “Must be the vegan cookbook I bought at that used book store past the Tesco. Remember, the beat up one run by Cranky Chaz? Anyways, dad’s, like, addicted to the lettuce wraps. Plus, he promised to be good and eat all his greens while I’m away, and Mrs. Dewly next door promised to help him cook when the Sheriff stuff gets too busy.”

“I remember Mrs. Dewly,” Scott murmurs with a smile. “She used to get so mad at us for playing lacrosse in the driveway, remember?”

Stiles grins. “Of course I do. I’ve spent the last, like, seven years making her like me. I cook her kale scones every week, Scott, you don’t understand.”

“Kissup,” Scott murmurs, flinching away with a giggle as Stiles pokes him in the side.

“Don’t mess with me,” Stiles wiggles his fingers. “These babies are even better at finding your soft spots than they were seven years ago. I’ve had time to train, learn secrets you can only dream of-“

“I give, I give,” Scott bats away his hands with a grin, leaning his head against Stiles’ shoulder with a sigh. 

“Hmf,” Stiles tilts his head against Scott’s, his ADHD blissfully quiet for once. “Well, if you must know, I won a scholarship.”

Scott’s head shoots up and Stiles barely manages to move his chin out of the way in time.

“Dude,” Scott breaths, puppy dog eyes and all, “that’s awesome. I knew you were smart, but that’s crazy. Aren’t there, like, hundreds of applicant? How many people won it, anyways?”

“Thousands,” Stiles replies, a touch smugly, and yeah, ok, he was proud of it. “And only four of us.”

Scott’s eyes are the size of dinner plates. “Dude.

And, well, it’s been years since someone has been impressed with Stiles. He quickly hides his face as he feels the telltale blush spread across his pale skin, but Scott’s already pulling his hands away from his face and snickering.

“When did you become so shy?” He giggles quietly, and Stiles feels like a human tomato at this point.

“S-shut up, I bet you’re still a crybaby,” Stiles retorts, crossing his arms petulantly. 

Scott snorts. “Whatever makes you feel better, buddy.”

 

They land sixteen hours later as the sun sits directly above them. Stiles shields his eyes, blinking blearily as Scott half guides half drags him off the plane. The sudden influx of Korean culture is a little startling, and Stiles barely manages to keep himself from gaping at every little thing. The lack of English is unsurprising, but it feels like all the preparation Stiles did was for naught. He catches a familiar phrase here and there, but for the most part everyone’s speaking too fast for him to understand, in too many dialects.

Scott doesn’t seem too phased, but his grip on Stiles’ arm is a little too tight, and Stiles knows Scott understands even less Korean than he does. In that sense, Stiles is unsurprised when they become totally, horribly lost. 

Scott blinks at him, and Stiles groans. As it turns out, puppy dog eyes are still his weakness.

“Fine, fine, I’ll ask for directions. Go, uh, stand over there and look less suspicious.”

“I don’t even look suspicious in the first place!”

After struggling through a half Korean half English conversation with one of the security guards, they manage to find Terminal D, even more crowded than the airport itself. Stiles is suddenly grateful for Scott’s suddenly large frame as he pushes the two of them through the crowd, although he’s sure he’ll learn to despise it soon enough.

“Where are you staying?” Scott asks, lifting his and Stiles’ suitcases off the luggage ramp. When had he gotten so strong?

Stiles shrugs, pulling out the handle of his battered luggage, dozens of ribbons tangled and fluttering on the handle. “Probably a hotel until I start school. They haven’t found arrangements for me since I had to come so early. I’m staying with a host family, but they haven’t got one for me yet.”

Scotts has the puppy eye look again. “Bro, no way. My Aunt would be glad to host you.”

“You don’t even know your Aunt!” Stiles waves his arms, and yep, that’s the Adderall wearing off. 

“She’s my mom’s sister, there’s no way she’s letting you wander around an unfamiliar city trying to find a decent hotel,” Scott insists. “Does your dad know you don’t have a place to stay?”

Stiles winces. “I didn’t want to worry him. Plus, it was like, one day before the flight when the scholarship agency contacted me and told me about the lack of lodging, and I doubt he would have let me go at that point. And we already spent all this money on the plane ticket, so I didn’t want to-“

Scott places an arm around Stiles’ shoulder and drags him out the double doors and onto the street. “Yeah, you’re staying with me.”

“But-“ Stiles protests.

“Scott!” The pair glance over and catch site of a young woman who looks remarkably like Mrs. McCall waving her arms around with a large sign with Scott’s name on it.

Scott drags him over, dropping his arm to give the woman a big hug. “Hi Aunt Carissa.”

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you, Scott,” the woman squeezes him one last time before holding him at arm's length. “You look just like your mother, you know?”

“I get that a lot,” Scott says with a grin, yanking Stiles back as he tries to inch away.

Aunt Clarissa’s eyes fall on him. “Oh, who’s this?”

“This is my childhood best friend, Stiles,” Scott says, tugging Stiles into view. “He’s here on a scholarship program.”

“Oh, wow, you must be really smart,” Aunt Clarissa grins.

Stiles feels the heat crawling up the back of his neck and making his ears red. “Uh, thanks. It’s nice to meet you, Scott told me all about you on the flight here.”

“He needs a place to stay until his semester starts,” Scott says without preamble. 

Stiles hits his arm. “Dude, I’m fine. Just help me call over a taxi, I found a hotel on Naver not too far from the school. It’s pretty nifty, actually, with working water and everyth-“

Aunt Clarissa and Scott fix him with identical, terrifying stares. Stiles shivers.

Before he knows it, Stiles is being tugged along by Aunt Clarissa as Scott pulls both of their luggage behind him.

“Ma’am, really, I’ll be fine-“

Clarissa waves away his protests. “I already told you, no friend of Scott’s is going to be left to fend for himself in a completely new city. I have plenty of room in my apartment for two teenage boys, and certainly enough food for it.”

“Aunt Clarissa is a chef,” Scott whispers in his ear as they buckle their seat belts. “She gets to take home leftovers at the end of the day.”

“Oh,” Stiles hums, still a bit bewildered. “Well, thank you, ma’am, I really appreciate it.”

“Na na na,” Aunt Clarissa waves away his thanks. “It’s no problem. I’m very glad to have you, Stiles. Now I know I won’t be leaving Scott home alone all day. Call me Aunt Clarissa, dear.”

Stiles murmurs agreement, his foot tapping as he glances at Scott. He gives him a thumbs up.

They begin driving through traffic, the radio playing some music Stiles vaguely recognizes from his trek down the YouTube wormhole. The city is filled with bustling people left and right, towers looming in the skyline. The sun is bright, glaring down at them, but it’s still not as hot as Beacon Hills.

“So, is this your first time in Korea, Stiles?” Aunt Clarissa asks, glancing at them through her rearview mirror.

“Yep. Actually, it’s my first time outside Beacon Hills,” Stiles admits.

Aunt Clarissa whistles. “That’s quite the leap.”

“I didn’t even think I’d get in,” Stiles shrugs. “This whole thing is, like, some Kdrama where the lead accidentally wins something and then can’t not accept it because it’s that good.”

“I think you’re more of a supporting character,” Scott muses. “You’re too smart to be the lead.”

Stiles flutters his eyelashes. “Aw Scotty you do care!”

“You know I do,” Scott winks.

“Do I need to make one of you sleep on the couch?” Aunt Clarissa asks, amused.

Stiles scoffs. “Scott knows I’m too good for him. Besides, he has a lame crush on Sakura.”

“Hey! Leave my baby alone. Just because you like Sasuke’s ‘tall, dark air of hotness’ doesn’t mean all of us have to.”

“Shows what you know.”

They settle into the room Aunt Clarissa shows them in the moderately sized apartment, pausing briefly to drool over the game console she said came with the place. There’s only one bed but it’s queen sized, and the bathroom has a running, hot shower, so Stiles is happy. The food is nothing less than godly and he settles into bed with a happy stomach. Overall, his first day in Korea shaped up rather nicely. 

Of course, it only made sense that he found himself running from the police and hiding under a table in someone’s basement only days later. 

But that was Scott’s fault. 

Scott and his NaruSaku obsession.

Seriously, screw Sakura.


End file.
